Sixth place: Appetizers.

This second-gen Versa deserves crispy-prawn status mostly because it is about as intellectually and athletically evolved as a stunned crustacean and could sure as hell do with a belt or six of Grand Marnier. Here’s an idea: Let’s drink the whole bottle.

It’s surpassingly rare for an essentially all-new car to arrive on the scene and be so uncompetitive. Nissan mandated a car with the lowest MSRP in America—$11,750. And it feels like it. Build a contender, first. Then figure out the price.

The Versa is the longest car in our group, also the only sedan. But we included it because a redesigned five-door hatch has not yet materialized. Beyond its sticker, the Versa’s only other virtue is a back seat large enough for three adults. In almost every other measure, however, this car fouls out, a lugubrious liturgy of low expectations.

Here we go. It was the slowest to 30 mph, to 60 mph, to 100 mph, and through the quarter-mile. It offered the least skidpad grip. Its 15-cubic-foot trunk tied it with the Kia for least cargo space. It offered cabin surfaces “that would work better in a prison” and the least driver comfort. It displayed the worst ergonomics, the fewest features and amenities, and the worst transmission (a CVT that relentlessly catapults the engine to a screaming 4800 rpm with you screaming along with it). It laid bare the worst fit and finish, the nastiest engine NVH, and the spongiest brake feel. It was the most susceptible to crosswinds, “a nervous lamb with almost no sense of straight-ahead.”

We attempted to identify a single styling cue, inside or out, that said anything at all, that evinced the slightest spark of imagination or creativity. This is the same Nissan that gave us the funky, fun, affordable Juke?

With no redesigned Versa Hatchback yet available, we tested the new sedan. Steel-and-plastic transport modules don't get more basic.